NSO Chapter 42

I don't own Pokemon.

Cleo sighed as the bright yellow bus stopped at the school gates, doors folding inwards with a hiss. A flight of stairs led upwards to a Bewear sitting behind the wheel, glaring at her.

"What are you waiting for, an invitation? Just get on already!"

Grunting in acknowledgement, Cleo trudged up the stairs. She had yet to choose a seat when the bus began to move, causing her to stumble down the aisle. She eventually selected a window seat at the back of the bus. Was this seating going to be permanent? It didn't seem like the Bewear would care, and it wasn't like she had a lack of choices. Cleo was the only passenger.

She watched as the surrounding landscape changed, the number of houses slowly thinning out into barren desert on both sides of the bus, the yellow-brown expanse extending out into the distance. As the final signs of nature disappeared behind the bus, along with a familiar-looking convenience store, a green sign flashed past the window.

"Now leaving…"

The other bold white words were gone faster than she could read them.

Her mom had explained it to her over breakfast, with a letter on the dining table addressed to her marked 'strictly confidential'. With the investigation about the incident still ongoing, the fact that Cleo, Gayle and Apollo had been involved in the 'assault' on three other students—Sylvie's posse—was undeniable. Gayle and Apollo had received less severe punishments, with the both of them staying back after classes with sessions with the school councillor. Not her, though. She had contributed to most of the grave injuries sustain and had been penalised under juvenile criminal law. She would be taken to a youth offender's institution for 'intensive treatment and counselling' after every school day. In comparison to jail, this was definitely the better option. At least she would receive help.

The uneven terrain started to smoothen out as the first sight of something vaguely resembling 'civilisation' showed up in the distance. She had no idea how long the journey had taken; the concept of time was hard to keep track of when drifting in and out of sleep, being jerked awake with every bump on the road.

First thought on the 'institution': Grey. Grey and sad. The large building loomed over the nearing bus, the vehicle honking once to sound out its arrival. Grey walls surrounded the institution in a squarish formation, half the height of the tall, rectangular building set in the centre. Cleo shuddered when she noticed the coils of barbed wire lining the top of the walls, and her stomach sank as the front gates, indistinguishable from the rest of the wall, opened to allow the bus entry. These walls were thick, and upon closer scrutiny, were lined with tiny hooks, painted to blend in with the material they extended from. She didn't want to know their function, nor did she want to find out herself.

One pair of double doors seemed to be the only way of entry and exit in this building, which Cleo just realised had no windows. She stood before the two glass panes, hesitant to enter. The Bewear had wasted no time shooing her off the bus, and she could hear tyres squealing against the tarmac as the vehicle sped out of the institution's walls.

Cleo peered through the doors again and was not surprised at what she saw. The building's interior was just as bleak as its exterior.

"Good afternoon! How may I help you today?" From a receptionist's desk set in the middle of the room, a Girafarig looked up from shuffling some papers, her two heads turning to smile sweetly at the newcomer. "Oh, a child. May I have your name, please?"

"Um… Cleo. Torrent." Besides the door she stepped through, the room was devoid of any other doors, save for an elevator located behind the Psychic-type. The lift was built into the wall, an older model comprising a dirtied base enclosed by scissor gates on all four sides. A row of chairs lined the other two bare walls. The seats showed signs of age as well, their fabric covers barely held together by a few threads. Exposed stuffing littered the floor, the same grey colour as everything else in this gloomy room.

"Ah, yes. One Cleo Torrent," The Girafarig chirped, her voice ringing out clearly in the empty space. A large brown envelope was held between her hooves, where her own name was printed on it in large black letters. A few documents were extracted from within, along with a small card that had a thin magnetic strip running down one side. She handed both of these items to Cleo, gesturing for the Vaporeon to step behind the counter, directing her towards the elevator.

"Pass this to your counsellor. As for the card, make sure you have it whenever you come here. Just tap it on that black rectangle there to activate the lift. You know, like entering your hotel room."

I don't think a hotel's the best description for this place.

There was an ear-piercing screech when the automated scissor doors retracted to one side, allowing Cleo to enter and stand in the tiny square of steel that was the lift floor.

"Keep your paws, hand and tail in the lift at all times. Done that? Great! Hopefully, I won't need to clean up any more messes this month. Off you go!" The Girafarig pushed a tiny button under her desk, causing the lift doors to slam shut, the carriage rocketing upwards and out of sight.

"A fine one." The black ball finally spoke up, the perpetual grin plastered across its face growing wider.

"Indeed. She will do nicely."

Cleo could no longer see the reception room, surrounded by the black, grimy walls of the lift shaft. She could feel herself rising at a rapid rate, and tried to make herself as compact as possible, refraining from making contact with the speeding walls. Even that was a challenge in the small space of the lift. She barely fit, all four of her paws squished into the middle of the small square and her tail raised high into the air. It wasn't a dignified position, especially with her face and body pressed against the flaking red-brown iron bars. At least no one was around to see her like this.

With how old this lift was, was there really no other Pokemon larger than her that had been sent here?

The lift continued to ascend, and an unexpected flash of light caused Cleo to instinctively shield her eyes, stunned by the glare of a new environment. The previous pitch-black had been replaced with bright white. It covered every possible surface on this floor besides the lift, which seemed to have risen out of the floor. She was in a hallway the stretched out linearly in both directions, so far that Cleo couldn't see the end. Doors lined both sides, and each one had a coloured dot above their handles, either green or red. She watched as a dot flashed from red to green, the door sliding open smoothly to reveal a Jolteon. He walked down the hallway, flashing a passing glance at her hindquarters when he passed her.

Blushing furiously, Cleo slammed her tail back down just as the elevator started to move. "Cleo Torrent. Allocated room: H-2." The mechanical voice came from the lift ceiling as she sped down the hallway, dots on the door blurring into a line of red, peppered with hints of green. The wind whipped against her face, a constant reminder of how exposed yet confined she felt inside this 'lift'. She hated being trapped in here, where Pokemon could stare at her while she was powerless to stop them. That Jolteon's coy smile resurfaced in her mind again, making her grit her teeth.

Passing by a large H on the wall, the elevator stopped abruptly, slamming Cleo into the scissor gates as they started to open up.

"Please tap your key card against the correct sensor to enter your containment room, which should be right in front of you. Failure to do comply within fifteen seconds will result in necessary immobilisation. Fifteen. Fourteen."

Her paw tensed up as it touched the cool surface of the floor, still stiff from all the standing she had done. There was no time to take a breather, the countdown driving her forward towards that door. In addition to the handle and green dot, there was also a thin rectangular window and a small name card under it. There was only enough time remaining for the Vaporeon to take a deep breath, steeling herself for what she may encounter inside.

Beep. A click came from within the door.

"Door unlocked. Welcome, Cleo."

Cleo was getting tired of all the sudden shifts of backdrops. The moment the door slid open, her eyes started to hurt as vibrant colours assaulted her vision. The room's walls were bright shades of every colour imaginable, and so were the objects. A brown bed frame with a turquoise mattress was placed in the far right corner. A wireframe chair next to the bed contained velvet leather upholstery. A tall emerald bookcase was in the other corner with rung-like shelves, silver spined books lining each row. An orange tub sat near the door, half filled with stagnant water. The walls were an intense cerulean that seemed to gleam in the electric lights. It all looked like a drawing she had made when she was younger, something her mind would have conjured on its own. And with how much this room seemed to resemble her own, that thought was quite unnerving.

"Cleo Torrent. Glad to have you with us today." The voice was calm, and Cleo whirled around to face its speaker. A Hypno sat in the chair, a clipboard in hand that replaced its species' usual pendulum. He peered at her over his glasses, checking against his notes before nodding slightly.

"Welcome to your 'counselling corner'. Pick a place where you feel comfortable, and we'll begin shortly."

…

"...Are you sure you're comfortable in there?"

"Yes." Cleo answered stubbornly, up to her chin in water. Only her head poked out of the tub, the rest of her body submerged and invisible within the sloshing liquid.

"Of course. Firstly, let's bring up the topic of your schedule. It's quite simple to understand, and even easier to follow." A piece of paper was unclipped and pasted on the wall next to the bed, in clear view of the Vaporeon no matter where she was in the room. Three coloured rectangles, their size, shape and order repeated for five days straight.

Counselling: 1400-1700

Break: 1700-1800

Exercise: 1800-2000

This place must really love consistency.

Cleo started to blow bubbles on the surface of the water as the Hypno droned on and on about the timetable and its components. Those three words on the timetable told her all she needed to know about this place. Dull routines, for six hours a day for five days a week…

"... for a month, then we'll evaluate your condition and performance before deciding if any further action needs to be taken from there. Did you get all that?" The Hypno looked at the Vaporeon, who was distracted levitating small balls of water. He could feel waves of resentment radiating from Cleo, directed at everything around her. She clearly wasn't comfortable here.

Cleo looked up as she had the Hypno sigh, pinching the bridge of his large nose.

"It seems like I've got a long way to go before you warm up to this place, huh? Perhaps this will help you get settled in." He rummaged around under the bed, producing a thin silver rectangle. Cleo's eyes followed the arc it made when it was tossed to her, the wire trailing from the top of the device snaking to a hidden spot under the bed.

"Here. I'm sure you have better taste than I do."

He watched Cleo fiddle with the d-pad and the colour picker on the device, the Vaporeon suppressing a giggle when she managed to cycle the walls through a myriad of colours.

All Psychic types had the ability to 'see' emotions in some form, mainly through colours and shapes. The one that currently enclosed his patient was a red sphere of mist that almost filled up the entire room. The mist was thick, due to a messy blend of emotions mixing with overwhelming grief.

It looked like there was still quite some progress to be made.

"I guess I should formally introduce myself before we start. I'm Doctor Haworth, your assigned counsellor for this month-long session. I know you've been through some tough times as of late, and you must be feeling many, many things. You may think that I could never possibly understand these feelings. But the truth is, I will never be able to understand until we start talking to one another. I'm not here to downplay your efforts so far, but rather aid you in furthering your progress. I'm here to help, Cleo."

More silence from the tub, but the blue walls slowly faded into a shade of muted green.

"Thank you." He set his clipboard down on the mattress. There. He had read the script. The same script that the higher-ups had issued him, one that was 100% guaranteed to work on anyone. He had followed the protocol. There was still a specific list of questions he had to ask, each of them for a specific purpose. Cleo Torrent's files listed her reason for admission into the institute as displaying 'aggressive and violent tendencies', but that was clearly not the entire story.

Doctor Harworth's self-doubt surprised him. He had done countless times, sitting with other 'troubled youths' that suffered from the same violent behaviour, all too happy to explain the logic and reasoning behind their actions.

Cleo Torrent, however… didn't seem as ordinary. Perhaps it was time for a different approach. After all, his doctorate in psychology wasn't just for show.

Hm. With this amount of grief, the Vaporeon probably had recently been bereaved.

"Tell me about the day of the death. Take your time to explain what happened." He could see Cleo flush at the d-word, but she recovered quickly, dipping her head back down to fiddle with the colour changer.

She spoke in whispers. Water accompanied every hushed word, twisting and morphing itself into tiny figurines that described whatever she couldn't. A Vaporeon, Vibrava and Charmeleon. A Milotic, Roselia and Gardevoir. They stood in two separate lines, facing each other in various attack poses. Two Pokemon sat in the middle of the stand-off. A Sylveon and an Umbreon, intertwined so closely that both bodies had fused together. Their faces were an expression of serenity as the other six battled around them, a miniature yet detailed sequence of trading blows and moves.

No wonder she had been marked so highly on the list.

A giant Vaporeon was the only thing left standing. It towered above the two remaining Pokemon, paws raised in preparation to stomp on the other two Eeveelutions.

"And then… and then… " Cleo was starting to choke up, voice garbled as she submerged her head underwater. The walls and furniture were flashing wildly. The water surface erupted, the air expelled from an unheard scream.

A logical reaction, but an unhealthy one.

"Cleo." The Vaporeon was lifted out of the water with a splash, struggling against the pink glow suspending her in the air.

"Thank you for sharing with me as much as you could today. It took a lot of courage to do what you just did, and there is a way to get through all of this. However, it may be too destabilising for you to continue if I don't teach you a few things first."

Cleo was gently set down on the bed.

"We'll start with a form of self-soothing, or grounding techniques to help you relax. You can either sit or lie down."

"I will be guiding you through some circular breathing activities. By taking control of your breath, you allow your body to return to a more calm and relaxed state, and you'll be able to slowly lower your stress level."

"You can even close your eyes if you want. Now, take a deep breath in. As you do so, count to five in your mind."

"When you can't breathe in anymore, hold it for 5 seconds as you count to five in your mind."

"Now, slowly let your breath out. Count to five as you do this."

"At the bottom of your breath, before you breathe in, hold it for 5 seconds. Good. Let's take a deep breath in again…"

Cleo shut her eyes, feeling her body sink into the surprisingly comfortable mattress.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five.

She could feel her heartbeat reverberate throughout her body.

The constant mental counting took up most of her mental capacity, leaving no space for other thoughts. After a while, Doctor Haworth stopped counting, leaving her to carry out the exercise by herself.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five.

"You can open your eyes now, Cleo. How are you feeling?"

"I don't feel any different. A little relaxed, maybe." She folded her paws across her chest, staring at the grey ceiling.

"A little is still better than none at all. Whenever you feel stressed, or need some way to cope with emotions, remember to try this breathing technique again. It'll help you think clearly and focus on the present."

"Okay."

"Of course, another thing you have to do is to maintain a healthy diet and exercise. That's what the break and exercise parts of your schedule will centre around. The entire process will be automated, so you can set your limits on the machines provided. Speaking of which…"

Another door slid open, different from the one she had stepped through before.

"...I think this is a good place to end today's introductory counselling session. Remember your coping strategy, and I'm confident we can make better progress tomorrow."

"Sure," Cleo mumbled. She could tell that the door was her cue to leave. "See you tomorrow, I guess."

…

Doctor Haworth watched the door slide shut, but even then he dared not heave a sigh of relief. It was a struggle to recall his skills after such a long time, but he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"Doctor Haworth. Care to explain why you disobeyed the protocol?"

He almost fell off his chair as the entire room shook from a booming voice.

"Sirs, I had to improvise. She's not in a good mental state, so asking her now will yield no answers. It'll take time to obtain the results you need."

"Remember the contract, Haworth. You know what happens to Pokemon who fail this institution."

"Yes, sirs."

"Do not let us down." The Hypno's ears were left ringing as a resounding 'click' ended the conversation.

…

Cleo thought she would be sleepier on the ride home.

The bus sped along the desert in the darkness of night, with only twin beams of headlights to illuminate a short distance ahead. Even the glow of the moon did little to raise the visibility.

How did the Bewear know where he was going?

I don't think he does. Cleo gripped the bottom of her seat as the bus swerved sharply, barely avoiding a boulder that rose out of the darkness.

Well, at least she knew what to expect tomorrow. Break and Exercise were just boring. Such wide-open spaces for her to use, but she was the only one using them for three hours. She could probably bring a book with her tomorrow to pass the time.

But Counselling… that was an interesting session she just had. It felt weird opening up to the Hypno about everything, but she couldn't deny feeling less emotionally drained after that breathing thing he taught her. She would have to look up his methods later.

Perhaps she was being too suspicious about the whole situation. Maybe there really was nothing wrong about a nameless, windowless institution in the middle of the desert surrounded by walls, where the total number of Pokemon she had met in that huge building amounted to three?

And there wasn't even a pamphlet about the place.

Yeah, something was definitely going on in there. It could be hiding something huge, like a drug operation, or a Pokemon smuggling ring, or even—

Circular breathing, Cleo. Return to the present.

Or it could be something that didn't affect her at all. Whatever it was, it was presented to her as a form of aid, and she was going to make the most out of it.

What could go wrong?

"We're here." The Bewear's voice snapped the Vaporeon out of her thoughts, and only then did she realise that the bus had stopped. Mumbling her thanks, she quickly alighted the vehicle, only to realise that she had been dropped off in front of her house.

Huh.

Weird.