The Purple Dahlia threat
Digestive endoscopy, a little-known form of modern torture that Ash was discovering for the first time. A metal gag in the mouth through which a tube was passed, which you were asked to swallow while your gag reflex was titillated. With tears in his eyes, Ash begged with muffled cries to be released as the flame at the end of his tail blazed brighter from all the gas being injected into his stomach.
Unpleasant but not painful, the nurse had warned him. Only she hadn't told him that unpleasant meant sensations a thousand times worse than pain!
"AAaaarrr," he groaned.
At the same time, he should have known better from the moment the nurse had put on the fireproof integral suit. And when his limbs, neck and tail had been strapped down and Chansey had put all his weight on him as the tube was inserted.
"Hang in there, it's almost over," Serena reassured him as best she could.
In truth, she had no idea; all she could see on the screen was this long black corridor with a few white flesh spaces where the nurse was particularly lingering.
"Tell me, Serena," the nurse asked, her voice distorted by the diving suit, "is your Charizard a young pokemon?"
"He's recently evolved, yes," the trainer confirmed. "Do you know what's wrong with him?"
"Uh..." Brendan interrupted. "The clasp on my side is breaking!"
A clattering sound, the shadow of a white cap disappearing under the table, Chansey pouncing on the tail and wrapping it in a new strap as the pokemon growled.
"It's okay, it's fixed," Brendan groaned, still on the floor.
Serena smiled tightly. She didn't think Charizard would do the same to her, but she still checked that all the restraints on her side were working.
"A little less noise, please," the nurse said without taking her eyes off the screen.
Chansey dragged the boy by his feet into a corner of the room. He was still groaning as the egg pokemon gave a military salute in honor of the boy's courage. But... he was still alive, right?
"A nice bit of esophagitis," the nurse grumbled as she made one last trip into the stomach.
"An esopha..."
"Serena, we need to go over a few things."
Joy had just removed the endoscope once and for all, much to the dragon's relief. The young trainer, on the other hand, felt her anxiety rise as the nurse removed helmet, gloves, lined coat and jacket. She felt like she'd made a mistake, a very big mistake, when the only thing she could be blamed for was... Serena touched her ribbon, remembering the face that was too close to hers, her mistake, when she'd thought... No, no, no, and NO!
"Chansey, you can get me Gavisflame and the equivalent of four weeks' PPIy," ordered Joy, who had just finished washing her hands. "As for you, Serena, you'd better tell me how many fire attacks you made your pokemon spit out."
"About ten," she replied in a low voice, "a lot of trainers challenged us today and..."
"Only?" the nurse exclaimed, looking at her pictures. "And the days before?"
"Two or three... okay, maybe five."
Joy tapped her lip with the tip of her pen and detailed the girl from head to toe.
"Can you confirm that, Brendan?"
"Serena's not the type to push her pokemons to the limit, if that's what you're worried about," he replied, massaging the back of his head.
The caretaker's gaze had softened a bit toward the young girl, but now she watched the dragon with curiosity.
"The throats of young Charizards get thicker when they use their flames. That's why when they've just evolved, even if it usually goes unnoticed, they tend to have a slight inflammation of the esophagus."
She pulled a photo album out of one of the drawers and handed it to the young girl.
"These are charizards in a less advanced stage than yours, so I think you'll quickly see the difference."
Serena nodded, the insides of the pokemons' throats were slightly reddened, but not as charcoal black as she'd noticed during the examination.
"I have to admit that this is usually the case with the charizard, whose trainer was a little too enthusiastic about this evolution and wanted to test its power with a series of Flamethrowers."
"I had no idea..."
"Only that what you're describing is not enough to put him in that state, so I can't understand how our friend managed it."
"And a stagnation of flames?" suggested the finally recovered boy.
"Hmm..." thought the nurse, not quite convinced. "It's possible, yes, but charizards rarely hold back."
Brendan sighed heavily and glared at the fake pokemon.
"Serena asked him not to spit his flames at me, and he respected that pretty well, or so we thought."
He had approached Serena as he spoke, and Ash didn't fail to illustrate the boy's point with a coughing fit of smoke. The demonstration was enough for the nurse.
"It's not going to make the treatment any easier," she sighed.
Chansey was back with the medicine, and the nurse immediately gave one of the pills to the reptile.
"The important thing is to avoid fire attacks for at least a week."
"Char?"
"Yes, Charizard, one week. And trust me, you're doing fine."
"Cha-Char chari z-zard... "
Joy couldn't understand why the pokemon seemed so distraught. Not spitting out his flames was embarrassing, but not insurmountable. Especially since she didn't think he'd be upset if he had to laze around in his pokeball by doctor's orders.
"Are you worried about the contest?" asked Serena.
At first, the nurse didn't believe it, but then the pokemon became agitated, making big gestures in all directions. The young girl sighed, as if she was used to it.
"Better to miss a competition now than never be able to compete again."
"Zar! Zard!" the pokemon refused.
Who would have thought that a charizard could get into such a state at the thought of missing a contest. But if he started arguing with his trainer about it, he wouldn't get any better.
"If he doesn't use fire attacks, I have no reason to forbid him from fighting."
Except that with only Dragon Claw or Thunder Punch, Ash couldn't see himself getting very far in the competition. It was complicated enough under normal circumstances without adding a handicap!
"This is my only condition, and it must be followed to the letter," the nurse insisted.
"Chari?"
"I've already told you, it's not the most important thing," Serena reminded him, "I'll try to find another contest and..."
"Charicha?" the pokemon repeated, spreading his wings.
The young girl gave the nurse a desperate look, begging her not to agree.
"Yes, you can fly too," Joy admitted.
"Chari, Char?"
"I only forbid you to spit your flames, the rest you can do as usual."
He gave a big, satisfied smile that reassured Joy, but Serena frowned, not really convinced.
"If I were the one with a burning throat, you'd be the first to want me to rest," she grumbled.
"Cha!" he confirmed, arms crossed.
"Then why don't you take your own advice?" sighed Serena.
Ash looked at Brendan. He'd told the boy that he was there to help the coordinator with her competitions, but if he ended up preventing her from participating...
"Chari, charichar, rizard," he promised.
If he thought he could convince her that way, he'd put his claw in his eye. Last time she checked, she was the trainer here, so it was up to her to decide whether they would participate in this contest or not. And, surprise, it was out of the question that...
"Remember, it's not just the contest he's interested in at Refville."
Brendan's words made the famous trainer blush from the tips of her ears to the roots of her hair.
"HuuuuAAAH! Okay!" she admitted defeated.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Joy worried about the girl's strange reaction.
"Yes, everything's fine, perfectly fine! I was just wondering... His meals! Is there anything special I should do for his meals?"
"In the first place, a diet of ice cream and yogurt, or any other fresh, soft food."
The dragon's increasingly visible teeth said nothing to the young girl and she hastened to point out:
"That doesn't mean you have to stuff yourself."
"Zar!" he turned to the nurse.
"I don't want a call from one of my colleagues asking me why I advised a charizard to have ice cream indigestion."
Serena wasn't satisfied with the menu yet.
"He's been eating almost normally for a while now, so having to reduce his rations again is a bit.
"Supplements mixed with yogurt go down pretty well."
Here we go again, the fake pokemon sighed inwardly. Too bad, not eating that thick cream was good for him, but he didn't want to give Serena any more reason to worry about him.
With the final details settled, Joy invited the trainers to wait in the hall while she gave Charizard and the other pokemons their routine check-ups. Of course, the idea of Serena alone with Brendan didn't thrill the shapeshifter, not at all, considering the new wave of flame that was tearing through his throat. Not enough to motivate the trainers to leave the dragon, but the nurse insisted anyway, muttering:
"Chansey and I will take care of calming him down. In the meantime, you two can figure out what to do next."
Serena understood exactly what Joy meant, and in fact, she preferred to discuss it without the fire type.
"I hope she manages to calm him down," she sighed once they were in the corridor.
There was no glass to see inside the room, and the young girl was dying to get back inside to check on her Pokémon.
"They should be fine with Sing or Heal Pulse."
Unless they decided to use Fling with the cart: fast and efficient, but he preferred not to mention that to Serena. In fact, Serena was having a hard time. Curled up on the bench, almost haggard, she repeated:
"How could he get into such a state, he's impossible."
She rubbed her eyes to keep tears from forming, while Brendan winced in embarrassment. He didn't know what to do or say, and in spite of himself, he began to think of the impostor, the one who was already sitting next to the trainer, grunting his incomprehensible gibberish. Ridiculous, really ridiculous, while Brendan couldn't stop himself from making that mocking remark:
"He'll get over it soon."
What a strange sight: Serena's face froze, before breaking into pieces and reforming into an expression of pure rage as she jumped from her seat. Another slap in the face? Maybe, just maybe, so much the better, it would be just punishment for once again serving up that kind of reheated encouragement.
"Admit it, you'd be happier if it wasn't," the trainer's lips twitched.
A wavering smile escaped his lips as his face rippled with mirth.
"It's not my fault he's so jealous he makes himself sick."
"You haven't done anything to calm things down either," she asserted without the slightest trace of pity.
Brendan raised his hands in the air, a sign of surrender unless it was a way to quickly clear his name, and Serena was leaning toward the second option.
"I want to know what you did to him."
The boy brought his bag in front of him and opened it wide.
"I'm pleading innocent, and as you can see, there's not a single can of bleach or any remains of Charizard's soup."
"His soup is fine..." she grumbled.
"Did you taste it?!" exclaimed Brendan, his eyes wide with horror.
"The Center's siren went off before..."
"So that was the chemical alert," the boy remembered, snapping his fingers.
Brendan, Brendan, Brendan! Always able to steer the discussion where he wanted it to go, avoiding any objections with deft pirouettes. Only it wasn't going to go the way he'd hoped, not with Charizard spitting soot down his throat.
"Look, we're leaving Charizard's kitchen..."
"I wouldn't necessarily use the term 'kitchen', more like 'WMD project'. And, Serena, I regret to say that only you can stop him."
Breathe, Serena, breathe. Brendan doesn't want to tell you anything, fine, just get the information out of him, but the first rule of success is to stay calm.
"What I'm trying to tell you..."
"Think about all those poor little growlithes. Serena, they're going to be orphans, or-phans!"
"That's enough!"
Her scream had stopped the boy dead in his tracks, and the poor thing didn't dare move a muscle for fear of upsetting the girl.
"You didn't just see him molting yesterday. Something else happened, something else must have happened, and..." Serena clenched her fists, her tongue pasty as she asked: "What did you do to him?"
Brendan rolled his eyes and his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as he replied:
"Yes, yes, of course, the poor little thing. He makes fun of you, but he's always the victim in the story."
"What..."
"You're nice, Serena, too nice to him, and he takes advantage of it."
"Does he? Then what am I supposed to say about you, Brendan?"
"As far as I know I haven't received a single caress from you."
Serena's voice cracked with a shrill squeal, her heart racing again at the memory of the scales beneath her fingers.
"W-What? You and he aren't..."
"Honestly, what do you see in him?"
"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing.
"I'm so much cuter and more charming than he is. Unless you have a preference for scales, or it's fangs and claws that attract you."
"W-Why are you comparing yourself to Charizard? And it's not the scales that... Ah! It's different, completely different!"
She sat down again, her eyes fixed on the seat as she muttered in a low voice:
"I'm not amused. You know it's complicated right now, and using it to... it's not fun."
"True, it wasn't very fair," he chuckled. "But now would be a good time to sort out that little problem, don't you think?" he said, miming a phone call.
Serena felt her heart pounding in her chest, wondering how a few silly hints could have made her react like that. She shook her head, Brendan was right, it was just a small problem and there was a much bigger one waiting to happen.
"If you really don't want to understand, I see no other solution than to separate here and now."
He gave her another of his smiles, but this time its contours seemed harder.
"I know that, but I still have to think about it."
"Think about it? It's about Charizard's health!"
This time, there was no hint of a smile; the boy stared at his shoulder and approached the trainer.
"You still haven't explained."
"It doesn't matter," she tensed.
He had locked eyes with her, their noses inches apart as he took her hand. But Serena felt no warmth against his now too-tight fingers.
"Strangely, I find it hard to believe you," he provoked.
Serena stood up to move away from the boy, unable to bear the closeness he was trying to force upon her.
"I'm getting really jealous," he muttered. "Or do I have to disguise myself as a pokemon to get you to trust me a little?"
The girl puffed up her cheeks, maybe Brendan should think about what really made the difference between them.
"Okay, okay, you want to know?" she snapped. "Well, we met Team Aqua and Ta-Dam! Charmeleon evolved, my shoulder... There, are you happy now?"
He barely opened his eyes, as if he already knew what had happened up there at Mount Chimney and was forcing himself to act surprised so she wouldn't find out, which made the young girl even more uncomfortable.
"Are they after you?"
"No!" she exclaimed.
"Are you sure?" he insisted.
Her mouth dropped open and she swallowed:
"Why do you care?"
He scratched his cheek and explained:
"I consider you a friend, Serena. And I don't want my friend to be in danger, that's all."
She clenched her hands on her dress; for once, the boy seemed more than sincere, but he needn't have worried, because in any case :
"He made a mistake. He was just mistaken, that's why he thought..." She stopped just in time before turning back to the boy and saying: "I promise it's going to be okay."
"What if it's not?" he replied.
"Charizard is with me," she replied mechanically.
Of course, the impostor, always the impostor! How could she trust him so easily (How did he keep you from falling?),go to so much trouble (Make you want to hang on?),how did he deserve it!
"Of course, a charizard against the organization that almost destroyed an entire region, you know how to calm people down."
"I never said I would fight them," she cowered. "I just said... he was with me," she finished, blushing.
"Serena," the boy grumbled, "you trust him too much and he... He just wants to protect himself."
"I know he has a tendency to act without thinking of the consequences," the girl grinned, "but that doesn't mean... Brendan, there's nothing funny about this!"
And yet, how could you not laugh? We were talking about a guy who lied about being human, H-U-M-A-N. Imagine your cup saying to you one morning, "Oh, by the way, I was too busy not spilling the tea to tell you until now, but I'm alive!" Ah, well, the fake pokemon was there when it came to 'not thinking about the consequences'.
"You don't want to understand, do you?" the boy sneered. "Everything he does, everything you think he does for you, is because..."
"That's just it, Brendan, that's just it. You said it yourself: what he does, everything he does. What motivates him, his reasons, what he thinks, none of it changes the fact that he... Encourages me, gets angry when I agree to be hurt, cries when I reject him, defends me, helps me cook, sews my clothes. And you, Brendan, what have you done?"
The boy stood up, his fist clenched and the corners of his lips twitching with irritation. He was breathing heavily, his features drawn and his skin pale, his whole body in a kind of grotesque syncope. I looked. I looked and looked and looked.
"But in the end..." he struggled to articulate. "In the end, if you have to pay, then..."
"That's fine with me." Serena ran her fingertips along the poorly made seams, a slight smile on her lips. "He could stay in the stands and cheer me on from afar. That would be the surest way to make sure he doesn't make any mistakes. But, you see, I'd rather have him on stage with me, even if it's a disaster or the worst embarrassment of my life, because that's the only way we can..."
"Change."
Warm. Brendan was so warm. In his head, in his chest, in his stomach. A heat in which his consciousness evaporated into an opaque fog. If Serena knew the truth, if she found out... The illusion took the form of a dream with thin but visible edges: she'd fend off the shapeshifter, set him free, and not care if Brendan captured the fake pokemon in return. And then he'd be gone, leaving Serena to... Smile, want to puke, smile, smile, smile!
"Brendan?" the young girl worried, not seeing him move.
He crouched down, mumbling softly so she wouldn't hear:
"It was for this, of course it was."
The trainer took a small, worn yellow device from his pocket. He ran his thumb over its surface, hesitating again before finally making up his mind.
"What's that?" the coordinator asked.
"My pokenav number, I'll leave it with you," he said hoarsely. "If you have any problems, don't hesitate to call me."
She nodded shyly, surprised that Brendan had finally agreed to let them part.
"I'd still like to ask you a small favor," he admitted after a few minutes.
"I'm not surprised," she smiled.
His mask of good humor back in place, the boy took the liberty of borrowing the girl's tablet as he said:
"There's an exhibition I wanted to go to with you. And I think Charizard could stand to see me briefly after you've won the contest."
"Brendan, if it's for a date... And you know it's bad luck to declare victory?" she reminded him.
She remembered Ash's and the subsequent league defeat too well to know that it might not just be superstition.
"Oops, sorry. But are you sure you don't want to be my girlfriend?"
"Brendan..."
"That's right, I have to ask with a growl."
"Brendan!"
"I was joking, I was joking!" he rushed to defend his life. "And I don't mind if you just accompany me as a friend to..."
"Atellanes?" the girl read.
"What do you think of it? It's a well-known excavation site. Since we'll probably be around then, we might as well take the opportunity to have a look."
Serena scrolled through photos of destroyed houses, dishes, and other everyday objects. She found it hard to believe that Brendan would be interested in this sort of thing, and she wasn't particularly drawn to the archaeological site herself.
"They're strange," she remarked.
"You think? I admit it's more for them that I want to go, to understand why I feel so strange when I see them."
Serena looked at the masks closely. Grimacing mouths that made her shudder, and at the same time there was this mask among the others, the one that seemed to be made differently, from some kind of black crystal. Her eyes scanned the description just below the photo.
Derkomai?
The pokeball, an adorable two-toned capsule, a universal symbol that could be found on every screen, on posters, on clothing, stores, and, of course, in the hands of every trainer, including the one who wasn't quite a trainer anymore.
His jaw aching, the nausea never wanting to leave him, Ash staggered through the corridors as if the sphere in his hand threw him off balance and prevented him from walking straight ahead. Pausing to catch his breath, he turned the object between his claws, watching the light reflect off its polished surface. His pokeball, the one he refused to be trapped in.
He shivered, making sure no smiling pink ball was following him, ready to crack his skull open with an egg. But he hadn't done anything wrong: he was a trainer, albeit a forced layoff, but a trainer nonetheless. That was why he couldn't understand why Joy had been so reluctant to trust him with the sphere.
The shapeshifter hurried on, thinking he could hear the sound of Chansey's footsteps in the distance. Okay, the truth was that Joy hadn't just been reluctant, she had simply refused. And what could be more normal: you wouldn't entrust your main means of containing a monster to the monster itself. On the other hand, if the nurse really didn't want him to take it, she wouldn't have put it so prominently on the bench.
You're not making excuses, are you?
Great, now the potted plant was talking to him. And with its leaves bristling like spiky hairs... Yes, of course, Gary the green plant! Ash didn't laugh at his joke for long, his gaze irresistibly drawn to the pokeball, the object that linked humans and pokemons in a matter of seconds. What if it worked between a human and a fake pokemon? He shook his head, trying to get his thoughts back in order: he'd learned from the start that this technology was only a small help, thanks to Pikachu's multiple discharges during their first encounter.
But at least it kept him from leaving. Your pokemons are obligated to stay with you until you decide otherwise.
His eyes widened as he pictured himself free again, the pokeball broken, Pikachu at his side, Serena... Why did Serena disappear every time he imagined himself again?
He blinked several times, realizing that he had already reached the hall and that, to his disappointment, only Brendan was there to greet him. And it was hard to ignore the grand gestures he made to him, urging him to join and sit down at his table.
"Here, I hope you like soda pop," he offered, pushing a bottle towards the shapeshifter.
Ash forced a smile despite the impression that his lips were cracking with the effort. He swallowed a sip. Where is she? The bubbles against his palate. Where is she? Their roundness, their spherical shape, the strange sensation as they burst against his tongue. Where is she? Their freshness in an eternal summer... His claws tightened around the pokeball.
"Are you worried about not seeing my girlfriend?" Brendan asked nonchalantly.
Ash almost choked as his head filled with a thousand questions: how could Serena have accepted in such a short time? Arceus should explain what had happened in his absence, for pity's sake!
"Char! Chari! Charcharizardzardzard..."
"I was joking, you know."
"... Zar."
"I wonder how Serena doesn't notice," he chuckled.
"Chari?"
The ice cubes clinked and a few drops flew towards the dragon.
"We haven't talked about this yet, but I'd like to know: what is she to you?"
"Char-Char-Chariiii?"
He meant what kind of friend she was, didn't he? Well, she was a wonderful performer who always took good care of her pokemons. She was great, really great, that's what I always thought. The pokeball dropped and rolled to the trainer's foot on the other side of the table, who picked it up, amazed at the monster's sudden immobility.
Ash had always thought so, but Charizard... He scanned his claws, the orange of his scales, as if he wasn't quite sure he was him. A stupid thing to do, since he wasn't, at least not in appearance. Maybe not just in appearance, he heard himself gasp at the roll of the ball coming back at him.
Brendan gave the dragon a few seconds, just long enough to bite into his straw and realize that his glass was already empty.
"I'm going to regret this," he murmured through his teeth, before repeating in a louder voice: "Oh dear, how boring. I'd feel terrible if Serena didn't get to her competition on time and missed the Grand Festival. And even I have to make a detour if I'm not ahead in my badges. So, that's it," he said, refilling his drink, "I think we'd better split up here."
Ash stared at the boy for a long moment, not daring to believe it until his tail flame crackled with happiness. But was Brendan really going to let him go? Hadn't he promised to tell Serena everything? And besides, Ash still didn't know what had stopped the boy from doing so. He waddled on the bench, as if he knew he was about to say something stupid, but couldn't stop himself:
"Char... ri?"
Brendan ran his finger along the edge of the glass, occasionally managing to squeeze out a fine hiss.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm still dying to tell her and be able to... But let's just say I don't want a monster in my pocket."
And anyway, the girl had already made her choice, preferring the impostor to the one who only wanted the best for her. Brendan smiled mockingly at himself, which he quickly drowned in the sparkling water.
"But just so we both know, if you have any more contact with Team Aqua, I want to know about it."
A dull roar filled the air. First, let Brendan explain why he was wearing Mount Chimney's scent when he joined them. And if Team Aqua ever attacked again, even if they had no reason to, he'd be there, he'd always be there... His eyes drifted to the pokeball. Even without it, I'll be there.
"You're not bad, Charizard, I have to admit."
Yes, he... Ash wasn't bad enough to leave Serena when she needed him. Ash would no longer run away for fear of suffering, of causing pain, of being like him. Because Serena was important, very important, because... She captured you.
"At least you're a little better at fighting than most of the pokemons in contests," Brendan continued with a wry smile. "But I don't think that's enough against people who can hold an entire city hostage. A city under the responsibility of a gym leader, no less."
Ash bit his cheek hard. He knew that if Team Aqua decided to really go after Serena, one or two good trainers and a few police officers wouldn't be enough. At the very least, like in Kalos, it would require a meeting of all the gym leaders and, if possible, some members of the Elite Four or even the Master himself. Impossible to get people together on the basis of: my friend might maybe be attacked, but I don't know when or where. But no matter what Brendan said:
"I don't think you're enough either," the fake pokemon growled.
The boy's eyes narrowed as he sank deeper into his seat, his glass still in his hand.
"After all, I don't need you. I'll know soon enough if she's involved."
Ash had risen, the shadow of his wings covering the boy without him seeming the least bit frightened. He didn't hesitate to pour himself a sip of water.
"I kind of like Serena," he explained. "It's refreshing to see someone who's managed to turn things around," he swallowed, taking a sip. "And maybe it's because I like her that I tell myself that at least, unlike some people, she's not lying when she says she doesn't know them."
"Char!" annoyed the fake pokemon.
"Sorry, it's true that you don't stoop to lying either, you just omit. It's like Flannery forgetting to tell me about Serena's wound."
Ash slapped the ground with his tail, the rising flames hurting his throat again, but he didn't think about it any more when Brendan finally confessed that he'd been to Lavaridge. Now all he needed to know was why he'd left that 'detail' out.
"Twice."
Brendan hadn't raised his voice, his lips pressed against the glass, his movements smooth and relaxed, nothing to shake the dragon's scales. Yes, shake, not vibrate. The ice cubes clinked in the glass as Brendan set it down, amused at the concern he was causing when, let's see, there was nothing to worry about.
"Twice," he repeated with a smile. "First New Mauville, then Mount Chimney, that might be too much of a coincidence... Especially if there's a human-turned-pokemon on top of it."
Brendan stopped playing. The shapeshifter knew it from the smile, the calm, and the leg twitching under the table. Ash understood it when he remembered his own connection to the Aqua and Magma Teams, how he'd stopped them and how their vengeance should have been directed at him. At him, but it was Serena they were after, Serena Archie had thought he'd recognized.
"Still, I'll give her the benefit of the doubt, so I'll let her go."
All of the shapeshifter's muscles tensed. What did he mean by 'letting her go'? And what exactly would 'not let her go' mean? Soot and flame stained the edges of his lips, his chops vibrating under the growl.
"Yes, exactly, I'm letting her go," he continued louder. "Despite this vengeful shoulder, despite the coincidences, despite your existence, I'm letting her go for now."
It was a threat. A threat in its clearest and simplest form, Brendan hadn't even bothered to wrap it in one of his usual jokes.
"And this is the part where you thank me," he added.
More like the moment the shapeshifter tried a new recipe with the boy as the main ingredient, unless two bright yellow eyes dissuaded him. Well, well, Grovyle proved to be much quicker and more precise with the Leaf Blade at his throat than in their previous fights.
"In the end, you still haven't answered my question: what is she... Or rather, what will you say to her once you're human again?"
"I don't have the tablet."
"How convenient," Brendan sighed as he returned Grovyle to his pokeball. "I hope Serena's famous friend is more resourceful than you."
"Cha-Chari?" the dragon articulated with difficulty.
"She's calling him right now, and the way she talks about him..."
Seeing soda spill on his clothes was bad enough, but finding himself half crushed under a table was even worse. Ignoring the boy's muffled cries, Ash rushed to the videophones. The shapeshifter would pay for this when Serena knew... Brendan breathed loudly as he pushed the table back, watching the reptile's erratic movements in the distance.
"You know, the longer you wait to tell her, the more she'll suffer."
And he sat, staring at the place where he was no longer.
"Yeah, right. You're a miserable, cowardly, selfish bastard who wants to get close to her but can't stand to be touched in return, because deep down you know what you are. And yet, I can't help but understand Serena."
He wiped the blood running down his palm on the capsule at his belt.
"To understand why she needs you more than someone who encourages her from afar, confident that he won't make any mistakes that way."
Notes : I'm really going to take a break this time, but at least I'll have finished this mini-arc with Brendan. As I said, it's pretty hard to call it an arc, since there are no resolved elements, plus there are questions left unanswered (and I know, I'm letting you down on the phone call... sorry T T).
In short, the next parts will normally be quite light. Although Ash will still have to work on his feelings and his relationship with Serena.