Othello laid down on his bed, completely exhausted. Sunlight still shone through the window, meaning it wasn't as late as his body was telling him, but he was exhausted nonetheless. If every day was like this one, he was sure he would have a heart attack before long. After Cannon had left, the other students started whispering about him while he brought up the rear of the tour.
Even the Senior Champion knows him? Is he the Principal's son or something?
No, look at his eyes and hair, they're the complete opposite of her's!
Ever heard of "alleles," dumbass?
"Othello is new to any school experience," Ava had interrupted them, noticing they weren't paying attention, "The Champion was simply ensuring that he is getting acclimated well."
This had stopped all the whispering, but didn't do any good for Othello. He wanted to talk to Ava, even thank her for not standing by while Arthur challenged him. Maybe his nerves would have allowed it normally, but she felt distant and unapproachable. It stirred what can be called nothing less than dread from Othello, so he stayed toward the back.
– Chapter Five: The World Begins –
He stared at the ceiling and jumped to the next thought. Everything since he had come here had led to more questions. It was as if a gate had broken in his mind and was flooding it. He had found out he could speak to ghosts, people he considered infinitely more important or powerful were interacting with him, and his entire life had reversed from its previous state. The one thing that remained consistent was how much of an enigma this world was to him. He wanted to call out Mythos and Cyril, but he wasn't sure they would be able to give him any more insight on it. As his mind wandered back to his Pokemon, he remembered the strange voice he had heard during the announcements.
"Join. Visit. B-182. May 20th."
Why had it cut out above everything else? And what did the directions mean? He decided to ask Cyril and Mythos instead of pondering it on his own.
"You need something, Boss?" Cyril asked upon exiting his Poke Ball.
"I believe you mean 'good sir' or 'master' my companion."
"He's fine with Boss…you are fine with 'Boss,' right?"
"Um…sure…that's not what I was-"
"Oh, of course, of course Othello," Mythos interrupted, "Did you still have questions for us? As we said, we are not well-versed in curses, but if it has to do with The Affinity or any other ghostly aspects, we will help where we can."
"Can I only hear the voices of ghosts in my head?"
"Uh…ghost types, yeah…" Cyril paused, "But you make it sound like it wasn't a Pokemon."
"At the orientation…there was a voice. Everything else was static, but this one voice rose above and told me to 'join, May 20th.'"
"Well…they clearly were making an attempt to reach out to you, but I have no knowledge of specters that can force you to listen to them," Mythos glanced up as if scanning his brain for something to prove himself wrong.
"You don't think…" Cyril started, "Giratina?"
"Preposterous!" Mythos' voice was much louder in Othello's mind, "You are positing that a Legendary Pokemon has attempted to reach Othello?"
"I mean, what else could it be?" Cyril asked, slightly indignant, "An alien?"
"No. A psychic," Mythos rolled his eye, "That is the only other reasonable option I see."
"What's a psychic?" Othello asked, having never heard the term, "Do you mean psychic types?"
"No," Mythos shook side to side as if shaking his imaginary head, "Psychics are trainers that can converse in the mind, like you with us, but they can do it with people. Some of them can also do other actions such as moving objects or floating. If someone was planting information in your head, it was more than likely a psychic."
"This is all so much," Othello sighed, "How do I find out who it was?"
"I would wager you would have to meet them," Mythos piped up.
"Are you kidding?" Cyril's voice took the spotlight, "Meet some stranger who's telling you stuff in your head? Not without backup. Who knows what a strange person like that could do."
"I…just need some sleep," Othello collapsed on his bed, "Is every day usually supposed to leave you with this much to think about?"
He faintly heard the two Pokemon respond, but he was already drifting off.
– – –
Is this really what you want?
The voice was much different than any other he had heard since he discovered his ability. It echoed more than any other and it had more of a muddy quality than the static of other ghosts.
You've been forced into this life by others. Battling, caring for Pokemon, and all the anxiety, Othello, I worry for you.
The way the voice said it worried for him stunned him into silence for a moment. When had he ever heard that? Had he ever heard it?
Who are you?
Othello's voice also echoed through the space despite it appearing to be a wide open room.
Will you continue? Are…are you strong enough?
The voice ignored his request and continued with its questions. Othello tried to calm himself in order to respond, but, surprisingly, felt that he did not need to. The response felt as if it was built into him, engineered to always be the answer he would give.
I will and I am.
Confidence was never something he had in spades, but, in this moment, it was all he knew. For his whole life, doom was all he knew and he seldom fought against it. This…this would be his uprising…his rebellion. It might not amount to much now, but if he continued and made sure that was all he would do, it might eventually lead him to joy, a life he only saw in his rarest dreams.
May Dusk be your ally. Please, as soon as you are ready, come. You will know when and where.
– – –
"Hello?"
Othello blinked the sleep from his eyes slowly and yawned. Looking out the window, it seemed to be fairly early, maybe 6 or 7.
"Othello?"
He got out of his bed having recognized the voice as Ava's.
"Y-yeah?"
"I know it's early, but is everything alright?" she sounded concerned, "You didn't come to any of the pre-class activities yesterday. I was worried that the stuff that happened at the orientation scared you."
"I-I'm fine," Othello stammered a bit as his mouth was dry from sleep, "But I showed up to the orientation yesterday."
"That was the day before yesterday," Ava sounded confused, "There were some activities yesterday to let first years get to know each other like a catching competition and Pokeathlon…are you sure you're okay."
"Um…yeah," it was Othello's turn to be confused, "so…classes start today?"
"Yes. I'll let you get ready for them now. Glad you're okay."
Her footsteps echoed as he heard them retreat from the door, leaving him to his own thoughts. Had he slept for a whole day and a half? He searched the room for Cyril and Mythos. He hadn't returned them to their Poke Balls before he had slept…why hadn't they woke him up?
It took him only a few seconds to find the answer as the two were soundly sleeping inside their balls.
"Must have gone in when I did…"
Othello sighed. Today was the day that it all really began. He wasn't thrilled to have to deal with even more students than were at the orientation and possibly less thrilled about having to deal with teachers. Of course, there was no way he could voice this displeasure, so he would probably sit at the back of every room. Hopefully that would be enough.
– – –
"Welcome to homeroom," Mr. Leone was tossing a Dusk Ball up in the air and letting it fall back into his hand, "I'm glad it seems nobody is late today. Might have some issues if you're late on day one."
The class stayed silent, unsure what to make of him.
"Today, I'm mostly going to answer any questions that were left over from orientation," he continued, unbothered by the silence, "The Senior League members are good at their job, sure, but god knows some of them are as unapproachable as a Cacnea."
A couple students chuckled at this and Othello nodded, all too eager to agree considering his experience with Arthur.
"So, hit me with them! What have we got?"
A boy in the front row raised his hand eagerly. Mr. Leone had clearly already made a good impression. The teacher pointed in his direction, signaling him to ask.
Were you really a senior here just last year?
"As unbelievable as that is, yeah," he laughed, "And before one of you asks, yes, I was a member of the Senior League. Probably the only reason the principal offered me a job."
What type do you use!
"Oh don't tell me they don't pass on the legacy of the Great Gunnar?" Mr. Leone made a face of fake shock, getting some students to laugh again, "Dark-types all the way…well, most of the way."
Another few hands went up.
"Yes, you in the third row."
What was your rank?
"Now that's the question everyone wants," Mr. Leone shook his head, smiling, "Elite Four. That's the only clue I'll give you."
There was some excited chatting amongst everyone in the room at this reveal.
"What else?" Mr. Leone continued, "With the purple jacket, back row."
Do you have any battling tips for us?
"Already wanting battle advice? They get you kids started early, don't they?" Mr. Leone pondered the question for a moment, "I think you might need more practice to be able to handle some great advice. Come back and ask me when the Minor League starts their tryouts."
Some groaned at this, having expected to get something that might have provided them with an edge on their competition.
"Let's move on from battling for now," Mr. Leone waved his hand as if shooing away the idea of battling, "Aaaaand, also in the back, what was your name?"
Ezekiel.
"Ezekiel, what was your question?"
Is this hall really haunted?
The room went quiet before everyone started whispering to each other.
Haunted? This hall is haunted?
Like…like a real ghost?
Mr. Leone sighed, "Always with the ghosts. Whether it's haunted or not, as a Dark-type expert, I can tell you there's nothing wrong with ghosts."
But is it really haunted?
"Haunted is a strong word," Mr. Leone leaned on the whiteboard, "If you're asking if there's some vengeful spirit out to get you, the answer is no. Now, is there a ghost? Yeah. Someone here already told me they're going to catch it though."
He didn't look at Othello when he said this, but the mention made his heart skip.
"And honestly, I think they're gonna be able to do it," Mr. Leone smiled, obviously having a devious idea, "So you better not get on their bad side unless you really do want to be haunted."
The others started looking around the room, searching for some tell or way to know who this supposed "ghost-catcher" was, which made Mr. Leone laugh.
"Now, bell's about to ring, so, if I were you, I would get ready for the next class.
Right on cue, a loud ringing filled the hall.
"See you all tomorrow!" Mr. Leone waved, winking at Othello as he passed out the door.
– – –
Hey, you're the guy, right?
Othello flinched even though it was just a whisper.
I didn't really see you because Mr. Cannon…well…that part wasn't very fun. I'm Kara.
Othello kept staring forward, ignoring the voice to his side in hopes that it would go away. The focus in tandem with his nerves made him start to sweat.
Are you sitting in the corner because you don't know anyone?
He made an attempt to give a slight nod, again, hoping it would be enough to be left alone.
Oh. Well, if you need people to sit with at lunch, I already know a few people, you could sit with us.
"N-no thank you," the beads of sweat were turning to bullets and it took all his strength to not blurt out a blatant no.
Oh…you must still be overwhelmed. Champion and two Elite Fours fighting over you…that sounds weird…well, I'll be over there if you change your mind.
After the girl, Kara, had turned back around, he exhaled the immense tension he had built up. For the rest of the time, his eyes flicked around the room, trying to catch anyone that might sit next to him.
Welcome, welcome everyone!
The teacher excitedly skipped in while saying this.
I'm Ms. Azusa, I'll be your Normal type teacher for the year. Before we get into anything, I'm going to be taking attendance. Acciai, Kara?
Um, here.
Alright. Alfero, Donald?
Othello tried not to space out and prepare himself for when his name was called.
Kasun, Othello?
"Here."
Kara nodded from her seat as if committing the name to memory, but Othello ignored, just glad to be done with speaking.
After a few minutes, the teacher finally made it to the end of the list.
Alright, only one absence. Much better than I was expecting for the first day. Now, we won't be getting into much today, we're just going to get a brief overview of the Normal type. Can anyone tell me the weaknesses of the type? Or, how about you all just shout them out.
Fighting!
A couple students, including Kara, answered.
Great! What is Normal effective against?
Um…nothing?
The response was much weaker than the previous one with only one voice piping up to answer.
Who said that?
Um…me? Merit, Ms. Azusa.
Well excellent job Merit! Even though the Normal type has no super effectiveness, it makes up for it with only having one weakness. There are some types that normal is not too good against though, can anyone tell me those?
Everyone thought for a second before someone raised their hand.
No need to be shy, you can just say.
Rock…Steel…and Ghost.
Quite right! What was your name?
Millie.
Well nice job Millie! You all seem to know quite a bit about the basics of the Normal type…oh, I see you don't seem to agree. Othello, was it? Is something wrong?
Othello jolted upward. He must have been frowning or making a face when Ghost types were mentioned.
"Uh…um…it's…"
No need to worry dear. It's an open space and there are rarely wrong answers.
"Normal types are usually much better against Ghost types because of their versatility," he quickly spat out the thoughts on his mind, "Ghost types don't get as much coverage often and they can't hit Normal types without it, so the Ghost type is forced to switch out a lot."
He remembered what Cyril had told him about his experiences with Normal types but left out the part about them being the "biggest nuisance he's ever laid eyes on."
The silence that followed made Othello question if Cyril had actually told him the right information until Ms. Azusa clapped quietly.
Yes, that's quite right. Normal types like Furret and Linoone get a lot of type coverage and can turn the tables against types they might not be good against. That's the beauty of the Normal type: its versatility. Great job!
His classmates turned their attention back to Ms. Azusa who kept asking questions, but Othello was already feeling too exhausted to answer.