Riven tossed and turned in deep sleep, beads of perspiration running down his face. His heart raced and his breathing strained ragged. He wasn't dreaming anymore. Riven no longer saw the other thing staring back at him, covered in a pool of blood, shrouded by darkness with a smile that could only belong to a demon. His not-self's red eye staring directly at him before fading away.
Now he was on the floor amidst shouting and explosions of flame and lightning. He picked himself up, scanning the scene in a daze. He was in the plains somewhere, watching as Rose troops rode in on Rapidash, shooting flame tipped arrows over to his side. A memory, a flashback. It was a battle. It couldn't be anything else. He recognized the place.
Nimva Plains. Why did it have to be here?
He woke up screaming, holding his chest and feeling an unbearable burning in his right eye. Riven was panting, gulping for air. For what seemed like an eternal five minutes, he stared at the door while rubbing his face raw. Riven was on edge still, every sound only served to make him jump. He was unable to go back to sleep. Instead, he paced around the dark room over and over again in a restless trance.
The sun rose and he left his room, going to the kitchens to get something to eat. He stared at everyone around him, ready for someone to come up and attack him, but no such thing happened. Riven ordered his usual pancakes with pecha jam on them, but they weren't like they usually were. They tasted dull and stale, no flavor, no sweet fulfilling taste. He ate on instinct while staring at the wall, only to jump when Nurse Joy called out to him.
"Are you okay? You came into the pokemon center last night a nervous wreck. What happened to you?" She looked uncomfortable and slightly apprehensive about it, but her caring nature overtook that quickly, concern on her face.
Riven didn't know how to respond, he stared at Joy for a minute, unable to form words. Her face grew more concerned and she waved at hand in front of him. He snapped his attention back towards her and stuttered, "F-fine."
Joy noticed his pale complexion and heavy breaths. "You don't look well at all. Maybe you should go to the hos-"
"NO!" Riven shouted, moments later noticing the eyes of everyone in the dining area. His anger subsided. "I'm sorry...no hospital." Joy nodded and walked away, she swore she felt something malicious about the boy's irritated outburst. Trainers exchanged whispers and barely audible murmurs about him, discussing his strange behavior last night. He ignored them and walked outside. Unable to soothe his nerves, he retreated to a cluster of trees and exercised excessively, until his arms and legs couldn't handle it.
Riven sat down near a tree, hair flowing with the wind. I don't feel like doing anything. Should I be doing something? But what? He remained under the tree until the afternoon, nothing feeling correct or enjoyable. He challenged the gym leader and lost very quickly. His reactions were delayed, his senses distracted, he couldn't think of any strategies. His attempts to attack were pitiful and poorly thought out.
All three of his pokemon were upset at his complete lack of focus and poorly thought out directions.
Leaving the gym, Riven didn't feel sad or disappointed. He just continued walking. He got to the pokemon center and tried to fall asleep, but still couldn't. This lasted three days. On the fourth day, Wattson stopped him.
"Son. What are you doing? You need to stop this. I'm not going to accept your challenge until you get better. You look terrible, have you slept these past three days?" The boy had dark bags under his eyes, he always looked lost and seemed to clench and unclench his fists constantly. He also ignored almost everything, from conversation to things like loss. It was starting to worry the old man. Trainers were usually frustrated or very vocal about losing three times in a row, never this nonchalant.
The boy shook his head after a few seconds.
"Come here. You're not leaving this gym until you straighten out. This doesn't look healthy. Laughter is healthy, you look like the opposite of that!" He pulled the boy closer. "So, what's got you like this?"
"Can't sleep. Nightmares."
"What happened to you?"
"I don't know. Hard to remember." In truth, Riven didn't want to think about it. Nimva Plains was hell. He had passed out and woke up the next day, hearing that they managed to beat the Rose and Liran troops back. But that was... that wasn't possible. He was in the present, his future. Not the past. It wasn't right.
Wattson spent the next few days talking to the teen in between gym battles from other trainers. He also watched the boy speak to someone on a holo caster, a Samuel. His attitude improved by heaps and bounds and was actually responsive. He looked at the battles regularly and he even snickered when a female Mightyena used attract on his Manectric. The boy-who called himself Gray-was a mannered individual who was a bit tight-lipped but very calm. That struck Wattson as odd, comparing the Gray from a few nights before and the one chuckling in front of him now, it was as if they were two different people. The old man was just glad the kid had lightened up.
"Do you know what happened to you now?" The old gym leader asked, watching Gray clean up the gym after Wattson's recent match. He was paying the guy to help him, he felt bad about beating him three times in a row and taking most of his money.
"Petalburg," Riven blankly stated, sweeping some rubble out of the way into a pan. He didn't want to share guilt and horror experiences just yet. Besides, no one would ever believe him. He used Petalburg as an excuse to avoid talking about the real thing that bothered him.
Wattson's face fell, the trainer clearly meant the Petalburg Contest that went awry. It shook the entire region, scaring coordinators off left and right. The government and the media were still in a frenzy over it, resulting in another gym leader meeting to be scheduled in Lilycove. Wattson figured this boy must have been right there. The police had been unable to make the captured men talk, much to the frustration of both the league and council.
"Did you see what happened?"
"I think?" Riven still saw the images in his mind, the experience was disturbing. But it didn't hold a candle to some of the things he had seen in his own time. The part that disturbed him was that he reveled in satisfaction every time his fist connected with that man's face, and he didn't feel like stopping. Even though he had told the detective that he did what he had to, he knew that he didn't have to kill them. It did make it easier though. However, to protect his identity, Riven pretended not to remember. "What happened?"
Wattson didn't know how to tell this kid what happened. He thought that the boy must have developed some kind of trauma from the event, he didn't want him to regress back to his original state. "Oh, nothing. Just something…unusual. Don't worry about it haha!" He felt bad about lying to the boy, but it was for his own good.
"Ah. Alright then. Tomorrow I want to challenge again," the black haired boy stated calmly. The gym leader sighed in relief. He was glad that the young man didn't press the matter further.
"HO HO HO HO! Don't hold back on me ya hear? I want to have a good time on this one, none of that depressing show you had me on for a few days. Laugh, smile, have fun!" The jolly old timer placed his hands on his large belly and released his loud trademark laugh.
Riven nodded with a slight smile. "Unless you call getting half your money taken from you fun, I'm bringing it all." Wattson continued chuckling heartedly, holding his belly. Returning to the center, Riven greeted Nurse Joy-who also noticed his improvement-before heading off to bed. He was able to sleep soundly with the help of some sleeping pills Joy had given him.
The next day he was holding a Dynamo Badge and grinning rather smugly at Wattson. He held out his hand and the old man forked over a few bills. Four thousand. Almost enough to replace what he had lost.
Aine had destroyed his Magneton and saved her flamethrower for his Magnezone, who fainted in one hit. The electric leader's Voltorb then used an explosion attack to knock out Riven's Combusken, in an almost identical manner to what had happened during Roxanne's fight. Then he sent out Mischief, who won against Wattson's Manectric with a well placed point blank psychic followed by two confusions. His Kirlia was getting rather fond of teleporting to confuse his opponents, and definitely fairly faster. Although, he couldn't quite deflect lightning yet. Oh, and he got paralyzed again. Mischief was going to chuck a boulder at Riven if he kept getting him paralyzed, burned or poisoned.
"I didn't think you'd be so different when you got your head on straight," Wattson chuckled, surprised by the trainer's ability. Considering he beat the kid three times before, it was startling to see him completely thrash his team. "I'll say, you're definitely better off when you're calm. You're also kind of intimidating, has anyone ever told you that?"
Riven counted his money. "Not a day goes by when someone doesn't tell me that." Wattson beamed and laughed again, with a jolliness only that man could pull off. Riven's smile faded into a thin line. "Wattson, thank you."
"For what?" Wattson asked, stroking his white beard. Riven wondered if he'd do that when he got old. Beards made people look wise, he had to try it sometime.
"For helping me, I guess."
"I'm a gym leader! It's what I do. If it weren't for us, who'd look after miserable trainers like you?" He reeled back in laughter again. "Just kidding, ho ho! But seriously."
Riven wore a blank expression, but it quickly lifted into a slight smile. "You're too cheerful. I thought old men were supposed to be sour?"
"Making fun of my age huh? Laughter is what's kept me this cheerful! If you don't laugh more, you'll end up with white hairs before you know it!"
Riven frowned. Too late for that. Soon, the paint would wear off and his white patch would come back again. Then it was back to being called an old fart by snotty nosed brats like Elu. He didn't enjoy that, even if he was technically older than everyone he had met so far. "I'll pop back in for another challenge some time, old man. I appreciated your help none the less."
"Bye kiddo! Oh and have this, you can teach it to that Kirlia you got there." He handed over a yellow disk case, TM # 24: Thunderbolt.
Riven did a mental handstand and accepted the free TM. Free moves are always encouraged, he thought. It would be useful for Mischief to learn something other than a psychic move. More type coverage was better anyway. He was about to leave when he remembered something. "Wattson."
The gym leader turned around, "Yes?"
"Do you know where a girl named Amy lives? She's supposed to live here somewhere."
"Ye high?" He lifted his hand up to his mouth. Gray nodded. "Blonde hair? Really pretty? Green eyes? Kind of obnoxious?" Gray nodded to all of those. "Amy Baer! I know her! She brought in a boy scared half to death in here the other day. She lives near the outskirts of Mauville, up near route 117. You know her?"
"I met her near Oldale. She said she would be here when we parted ways in Petalburg. I just want to thank her for buying me food when I didn't have money. Just a friendly visit before I head north."
"Oh. I thought you were looking to ask her out on a date or something. She's around your age, you should think about it wahaha!"
Riven paled. "I don't think so…uh…I'll be going now." He hastily left the gym, setting off a trap and shocking himself. "Gah!"
Wattson hollered. Young trainers were always good to see, even if this one was a bit older than most. The old man had high hopes for every trainer that beat him. He smiled and then scratched his head.
"Hmmmm…now who's going to clean my gym?"
Riven walked up to a comfortable looking home with a well-maintained garden and a porch swing in the front. A sitrus berry tree stood to the left of the porch, recently picked clean. He cleared his throat and knocked firmly on the white door to the home. A middle-aged woman who looked surprisingly youthful answered the door, her blonde hair exactly the same color as Amy's. However, her eyes were hazel, not jade colored like her daughter.
The woman saw him and looked confused. "Umm…hello?" He looked pretty casual, despite his questionable looking face. She noticed a belt that contained small red and white spheres. He was a pokemon trainer. Who else would knock at their door? The mailman?
"Hello. Does an Amy Baer live here?" Riven asked politely, he didn't want to make a bad impression on Amy's mother. He already made enough of those.
Her eyes grew curious. "Oh, yeah. I'm her mom, Irene. And you are?" She'd never seen this boy before, then again, she had never seen Seab either. But this boy was older and had a more ragged look to him, his right eye was covered and his expression was blank. Hurt on the route maybe? She could tell that he had a lot buried under that expressionless mask, they always did. Her husband always said, beware the quiet ones.
"My name is Gray."
"Oh. Gray huh. Well, she was here a couple days ago but left for Lavaridge with a Sinnohan trainer named Seab. Maybe she's still there," Amy's mother said, feeling bad about having to relay disappointing news to the boy, who probably came a long way just to see her daughter. Her eyes narrowed and she grew suspicious. "Hmmmmm…you're not her secretive boyfriend are you? I can imagine my daughter sneaking off with another trainer and not telling me about it."
Riven's face contorted in horror. "NO. I'm not her boyfriend. She is just a friend. Nothing more, nothing less." Irene picked up no trace of dishonesty in his voice. He apparently had no sense of guile.
Her eyes were still narrowed, but gave up and withdrew her mama Ursaring tendencies. "Okay, I believe you, I was just teasing is all. You need to lighten up," Irene suggested with a sly smirk. The trainer's left lip lifted slightly. She had a feeling people told him that often. "Since you're a friend of Amy's, do you want to come in?"
"I don't think that's necessary unless you erm…want me to?" Riven responded, gulping slightly. Why did this feel more like stepping into the interrogation room and not into a house?
"Just get in dammit." Irene pushed him inside. "You trainers are always so jumpy! It's not like I'm going to kill you! That's a wild pokemon's job!"
Riven nervously chuckled. She has no idea. Wild pokemon are vicious in these parts. Especially that little Electrike near the bridge. That one was particularly vicious. He was passing through the underside of the bridge when this green pokemon shocked him. It growled at him to leave-which he did, lest it shock him further.
Riven was shoved inside, the living room smelled faintly of vanilla and everything was neatly organized and clean. A flat screen television in the center, atop a wardrobe. Three couches were aligned to face the television a few steps away, a computer in the corner and some pokemon toys strewn about. A stuffed Swablu doll lay sideways on one of the couches, reminding him of Amy's Swablu, Mila. This was a modern home. It looked warm and inviting. Riven had only ever been in the rental rooms in pokemon centers and very briefly in a hotel room, he never had a chance to see a regular home. Granted, it was a little jarring. He was used to the hectic and active lifestyle of a trainer, considering his life as a soldier had basically amounted to the same thing, just with more tents and weapon sharpening. He sat down on the couch, feeling a little awkward in Amy's house.
"So! You're a pokemon trainer?" Irene asked. She knew it was rhetorical question but asked anyway, aiming for some small talk to get the kid to open up and not sit there like the world was trying to bash his head in.
"That's correct," Gray replied. He was looking around the living room, studying some of the paintings and artwork nailed to the walls. They were paintings of the surrounding wildlife and there were portraits of several pokemon. One was of a Swablu perched on a girl's head, most likely Amy's, and another of an irritated and very familiar Electrike under its hovel.
Riven pointed to it with a snort and asked, "Is that one of the Electrike under the bridge?" Angry little thing. He frowned, expressing disapproval.
Irene nodded and began to laugh, holding her sides. "He shocked you didn't he!" The look on the trainer's face said it all. "HAHAHAHAH! He did!" She was kicking her legs out, now breathless from laughing. Riven sat there with an impassive face.
First Ben, and now this. Wonderful. He nodded in embarrassed acceptance. Wild pokemon didn't like him and most people it seemed. They never did. He couldn't recall any time when he didn't get attacked by something. Even before he got launched into the future. It was always bug pokemon or a pack of angry Fearow, or huge dogs that wanted to turn him into a fine pile of ash or rip out his throat. Of course he could fend them off with his weapons but since they were currently hanging out with Tentacruel at the bottom of the sea, he couldn't exactly do that. How didn't trainers feel helpless all the time without their pokemon? It was driving him crazy in comparison.
Irene stopped her giggling fit and calmed down a bit, wiping a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry, it's just hilarious. He shocks nearly everyone. I had to take two thundershocks from him before he sat still and let me paint him."
Riven studied the portrait. "You're very skilled. It looks exactly like that sour thing." He made a face at it, unintentionally mocking the painting. This made Irene burst out into another giggle fit.
"You're so silly! Even though you look so serious." She started laughing again, covering her mouth with a pale hand.
Definitely Amy's mother. She is exactly like her. "Why thank you," he replied, sounding a little salty. So he looked a little rough, so did nearly every other trainer who spent most of their time out in the wild. Not all of us are city dwellers.
She stopped laughing and smiled instead. "That one is Grumpy." Riven raised a brow. "That's what some people call him, considering he's always so grouchy and territorial. I call him Grum though."
"Is he wild?"
"Mhmm. Claimed the bridge as his own, and fiercely defends it." She assumed he was thirsty or hungry, maybe both. "You want anything? We have oran juice if you want some."
"Oh, uh…sure." He assumed oran was another berry. Hopefully it wasn't spicy. Wait. What kind of evil monster made spicy drinks? He always thought that the Rose clan drank boiling blood and spicy alcohol. They were evil enough, and they loved fire. If anyone ever made an evil drink that was disgustingly spicy, it would be them. Irene looked harmless enough.
But it's the harmless ones you need to watch out for. That was his paranoia talking. He crushed it with a mental fist.
Irene came back a minute later with a glass of some orange liquid. She set it down in front of the table and watched him taste test it. "It doesn't have poison in it. A little paranoid aren't you?"
Riven nearly choked. "I didn't mean to assume!" He sputtered, unsure whether he offended her with his erm…habits. One never knew.
"It's alright you silly boy, just drink up."
"Sorry, habits."
"Did you grow up in Kanto with those ninjas by any chance?"
"NINJAS?" Riven couldn't believe what he'd heard. The tales were true! Ninjas existed! Those sailors weren't all full of shit after all.
"Yes. Ninjas. They're in Kanto along with all that other old martial arts stuff they have going on. Most of them are poison specialists, you look dangerous enough to pass. And since you're taste-testing juice, I assumed they trained you too," Irene sneered, gesturing him to continue drinking.
Riven finished his juice, which tasted similar to Sitrus berry juice. He guessed that they both had a well-rounded flavor. He shivered thinking about cheri berries-those Pignite ribs taught him the pains of spicy food. Spicy means bad time in the restroom.
"So, did it taste like poison?" Irene asked smugly. She reminded him of a grown up Amy so much it scared him.
"Erm..no. It was good. I was half expecting it to taste spicy," Riven admitted, getting a little red in the face.
Irene stared at him before breaking into another laugh.
"Are you sure you're not related to Wattson?" Riven asked, amazed at how this woman could laugh so much. It was like Wattson the second.
"That tough old coot? Oh no, his jolliness is infectious. Just being around him makes you happier. Then you can't stop giggling."
"I worked with him for a week and a half," Riven deadpanned. His face was completely devoid of happiness.
Irene's happy aura fell apart. "Well, you must be immune. Are you even capable of laughter?"
"I did laugh."
"How many times?"
"Once."
Irene gave him a look. Riven faked a laugh. "That was pathetic, Gray." Well, he tried. "Let me see your pokemon then. Amy didn't let me see Seab's before she took off. So I get to see yours." She crossed her hands, and glared at him. She did that juice offering on purpose. Show hospitality and guilt him into doing what she said, within reason. Smart move.
Riven grumbled, realizing she played him. She was better at it than Amy, that was sure. "Alright." He took out three pokeballs and enlarged them before releasing his team. They appeared and Irene's eyes became as wide as saucers. White Queen barely opened her eyes before her face was stuffed into a fluff of blonde hair. She stiffened and she couldn't help but sniff the woman's hair. She smelled familiar, like the human girl Riven had met a while ago.
"OH MY GOD! Your Absol is gorgeous! My house might combust randomly because you showed up with an Absol but oh Arceus, she's beautiful!" Irene was fawning and squealing over White Queen. Riven, Mischief, and Aine exchanged utterly stupefied glances. Mischief held his hand up to his head and started making spinning motions. Riven snickered and Irene glared at him. He promptly smothered it and switched back to his blank face.
She finally let go of Riven's absol and started freaking out over Aine's feathers. "So soft and warm! I bet she's a comfortable heater when it gets cold isn't she?"
"I don't use her as a pillow…"
She poked Aine's legs, gasping. "Her legs are so strong too! She's gonna be a strong Blaziken when she evolves!" Aine cried happily, puffing out a lick of flame. It singed a bit of the blonde woman's hair.
"Ummm…sorry about that," Riven apologized, Aine had a habit of shooting out fire when she got excited, which was unfortunately all the damn time. He already had to reimburse the shop in Slateport for burning one of their tables into ash. Seven hundred good, usable, dollars. Gone.
Irene turned her gaze towards Mischief. "A Kirlia! She's so cute!"
There was a high-pitched wheeze as his psychic's face went from utter pleasure in being complimented to shock and disbelief.
Riven couldn't hold it in and broke out into hysteria, he caught Mischief's irritated look and his laughing became howling. Irene smiled as the trainer rolled around on the couch, laughing himself to death. It was a nice change from his blank stare.
"Oh!" He breathed in deeply. "She called you a girl! HAHAHA!" His Kirlia threw a cushion at his head, muffling his laughter. Irene waited until Gray regained his composure before she decided to ask him what his pokemon's names were.
"Ah…" He sniffled one last time. "The Absol is called White Queen, the Combusken is Aine, and that's Mischief." He gave a disapproving scowl to his Kirlia, who was currently burying his head in between Irene's chest. She gently lifted the psychic off her lap and onto the floor, he looked disappointed.
"I can see why you named him Mischief. Why did you name her White Queen though?" It was peculiar to give titles as names for pokemon, usually trainers named their pokemon something simple and short, like Ky or Iki. Aine was reasonable enough though. Certainly strange but reasonable.
"Because she has an ego large enough to put a mountain to shame." Mischief snorted, causing White Queen to turn around and headbutt Riven in the stomach. "Gah…and she's violent." She tackled him again. Irene only giggled. Trainers were fun to watch, each and every one of them had their quirks. Even her impulsive Amy. Which brought up another point.
"How did you and Amy meet?"
"She tried to blackmail me," the trainer stated flatly.
"Come again? She what?"
"She tried to report me to the Petalburg rangers for killing a Furret unless I gave her some. She was starving at the time, you see."
Irene didn't quite react the way he expected someone to act upon learning their child did something like that. Raising both fists to the air, she exclaimed, "MY GOD! MY BABY IS LEARNING!"
The trainer's mouth fell open. Err…what? He did just tell her that her daughter was turning into a con-woman. Something smelled odd here. Most parents would be appalled and or losing their shit. Riven was not expecting this.
"You're happy?"
"Well, yes! That shows me that she isn't so gullible and impulsive after all!" The blonde woman jumped for joy.
"You're a strange parent."
Irene held a scolding finger up. "Only cautious. I don't want her getting murdered like those poor kids in Sinnoh. Savages are roaming around in that country, even if they got rid of most of them by now."
Riven scratched his nose. Everyone kept talking about Sinnoh even though he personally didn't give a Rattata's ass what happened there. He shrugged and gave up on the subject, he had come from a place probably ten times as worse. "Well, it didn't work. She made me lose the Furret to a pack of Mightyena she alerted with her shrieking."
Irene sighed, her daughter still had a ways to go it seemed.
Riven looked outside the window, it was nearly dusk. He stood up and returned his pokemon. Aine waved good bye to Irene before being sucked in. "I need to go now, Mrs. Baer. The sun is setting and I want to leave Mauville early tomorrow. I should be heading back. And where can I get a bike? My feet have been trying to murder me recently."
"Central Mauville. Look for Rydell's bicycles." He bowed in thanks. "Bye-bye Gray. If you find my daughter, tell her I miss her and to drop by soon, okay?"
"Gladly, Mrs. Baer."
"Please, stop the Mrs. Baer business. You're making me feel old," She joked, rolling her eyes.
"Yes, ma'am." She frowned at him for a moment then turned it into a smile, waving him off.
Riven smirked as the door shut. Besides, I'm the ancient one here, heh. He stepped outside and looked at the bridge in the distance, dreading getting shocked again. Stupid Electrike. Why did it have to be so aggressive?
Might as well, I can take a few shocks. He gathered his courage and stepped off the porch, then instantly stopped when he saw yellow sparks light up the bridge. Grumpy was shooting sparks everywhere. Charles had said that Electrike spark when storms approached. He slowly glanced upwards, thunderclouds beginning to form overhead. There was a storm coming. On second thought, I should just stay away. Electric pokemon were lightning fodder, he didn't want to get a lightning bolt from the heavens to end his journey abruptly. That would suck. He did an about-face and knocked on Irene's door.
"Oh, you're back. That didn't take long," She commented dryly, noticing the black thunderclouds overhead. "I can see why. Come in, we get storms like that a lot. It isn't safe when Grumpy is near the bridge, or any electric pokemon for that matter. You might get hit and then just like that, we're short another trainer. Cleaning blackened corpses off the ground isn't fun you know."
"I would never have guessed," Riven snarked.
"I can leave you outside," Irene countered.
"No, that's alright. You don't have to do that." Riven shifted his eyes to the sides, trying not to irritate Irene. Sleeping in the rain wasn't pleasant, especially with the eminent fear of cloud to ground lightning fueled death.
"Just come in." She broke into a grin. "LEMME SEE THAT ABSOL AGAIN!" Her eyes flashed and she cackled evilly.
Riven sighed and fed White Queen to Amy's mother. Better her than him. Irene led him to the guest room, which had cream 'qualot' colored walls and a decently sized bed. It was better than the rental rooms at least. Another day rent free would do good for his funds. He nearly melted into the mattress, which seemed to sink with him. Oh, this is…good. Aine and Mischief gave in to drowsiness in under five minutes. This was heaven compared to those beds in the rental rooms.
He felt good. No bad dreams, no paranoia, it was great. He savored it, because he had a daunting feeling that he wouldn't have a chance to enjoy it again any time soon. He always had this feeling before things went unbelievably south. It was just a matter of when and how bad.
Oh well, I'll deal with it when it comes, assuming it doesn't kill me first. He slipped into a deep and relaxing sleep, hearing only faint claps of thunder and the calming sound of running water.
Edited: 5/17/21